


Cracks of Light

by Zoe13



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, No mentions of the other boys, Self Harm, just read it, not much technically really happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe13/pseuds/Zoe13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry bleeds light. Cracks in his skin will show golden beams, and he's a freak. Sometimes, when he's fiery, when he's angry or passionate, his veins will glow, showing what they contain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracks of Light

**Author's Note:**

> First strictly Larry work! Tell me what you thought. 
> 
> Just note that I already know it's really weird :p

Harry bleeds _light_. Cracks in his skin will show golden beams, and he's a _freak_. Sometimes, when he's fiery, when he's angry or passionate, his veins will glow, showing what they contain.

He hides. He doesn't want to love people and have them leave. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do. But even hiding doesn't protect him when he has a way of loving everyone he lays eyes on. 

He hates the light, and he reminds himself of it everyday by running a silver blade through his skin and bringing it into the open, mouth forming gasps and light shining into the dark. He's fragile, like glass, and he breaks every day. 

But when he is around people every day, it's hard to go completely unnoticed. He has to wear bandages over his cuts or light will shine from his wrists and show everyone what he is, and people already look at him. Sometimes with pity, as if they know what he struggles with. Sometimes with disgust, even though they don't. 

Of all of the ways he's been looked at, however, he had never before seen interest in someone's eyes when they lock with his. And it scares him, really, to see himself reflected in striking blue eyes.

"Louis," says a voice like silk, coming from beautiful lips, and Harry is so far gone in one word. And he's terrified.

"Harry," he says, and it's with a finality because everyone leaves after that.

But the boy- _Louis_ \- sits next to him. 

 

 

They're not _friends_. They have conversations where Louis talks and Harry very rarely answers in his shy, rumbling voice. But when he does speak, Louis is absolutely silent, listen attentively and giving real thought to what he says.

No, it doesn't quite feel like _friends_ , but it's more than Harry's had, and it feels _amazing_. He lives for the times when he sees Louis. 

He still bleeds light every night. He wears more clothing because his veins glow when Louis is around, and scarves become a large part of his wardrobe. Louis doesn't know and Harry hopes to God he never will. 

They meet up somewhere one time, they go see a movie, and Harry doesn't know what to think, he just feels. Then he goes over to Louis' house. Then they accidentally see each other in the park.

Suddenly Louis is everywhere. Harry is frightened of how he feels- it's so strong and something he needs so much, that he knows he'd be destitute without it. Louis' eyes are constantly twinkling at him.

He thinks that it seems backwards. Louis is the real light in his life, and he must be the dark in Louis'. He's got dark eyes and dark hair, he wears dark clothing and lots of it. His voice is quiet and he only speaks sometimes. But Louis' hair is light, his eyes are sparkling, he likes bright colors. He talks a lot an his voice is higher than Harry's. He happy.

Harry feels desperate. The more he cuts, the more he sees light. 

And suddenly, it reminds him of Louis. It's golden and bright and it's pushing away the darkness of the bathroom he sitting inside of. And he loves it, suddenly, abruptly, because it's like _Louis_. 

He wants to see more. He makes longer cuts, deeper cuts. The light glows, lighting up the corners of the small room. His veins are glowing and he wants, desperately, to see inside one, to see the glory of the amount of light it holds. Then he remembers. 

A knock on the door brings it back, reminds him that Louis' outside the door.

"Harry?" he calls. And Harry panics, his blade slipping and his skin separating wider. There's a slight clatter of the metal in the floor, and the room glows brighter.

"Harry, what going on?"

And his breath isn't coming anymore because he _hurts himself_ and _light_ comes out and he's _disgusting_. And Louis is so much better than that. 

Harry's crying. There's nothing else to do but say _sorry sorry sorry_ over and over again. 

But Louis' beautiful hands are reaching for him and his slender fingers are gently touching, spreading over the light with faint touches. And he looks concerned and full of awe at once, eyes trained on the glow. 

"What is it?" He asks, and Harry can't speak at first.

"I don't know," he says, done crying, done caring. "I bleed light."

"Bleed?" Louis asks, and then he sees the blade, recognizes the way the skin is split apart around the light. " _Harry!_ "

It's starting to hurt again, or he's remembering the pain, and Louis looks lost.

"Why?" he asks, and Harry has no answer. Louis sighs and pulls him to his feet, pushing his wrist into the sink and running the water, watching the way the light fades and then disappears when Harry's cuts are done bleeding. A few are stubborn, but eventually Louis can cover them in bandages.

Harry is still silent, wondering when Louis will leave. He's cold, he feels as if the light leaked out the warmth with it, and he'll only be colder when Louis- his warmth- leaves him.

He's wearing only jeans and a t shirt when Louis sits him on his bed and slides in next to him. His veins begin to glow, and Louis reaches out gentle fingers again, touching the skin above a vein that disappears under the bandage. His fingers are warm on Harry's skin. 

His fingertips trail, traveling from on vein to the next until they reach Harry's neck. His thumb rests on one there, stroking over it. Harry's breath stops, and the light's flowing slows with his heartbeat. It's so quiet.

Then Louis retraces his path with his mouth, his soft lips trailing from his wrist and up his arm, over his shoulder and collarbones. Then he's kissing under Harry's jaw, searing warmth at his pulse point, and the tears return in full force, spilling over. One flows from his cheek to Louis', dripping down the jaw that Harry loves so much. 

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Louis smiles lightly, tentatively. "It's alright, angel."

Then he takes Harry's hand in his.

"I'm a freak," Harry's voice is barely a whisper, but Louis hears him. He always does.

"You're _my_ freak," Louis says fondly. "And I love you for it."

Harry thinks that maybe that's alright, then, if Louis somehow loves him despite what he is.

"It's not _despite_ it, Harold," Louis says, and Harry's not sure if he spoke aloud or if Louis can read his mind. Either seems possible. 

"It's not?"

"I love you for it, and it's part of you, Harry. And it's _beautiful_."

Harrys lips part in a sob.

" _Beautiful?_ "

"Breathtaking. But I never want to see it like _this_ again," Louis says, touching the bandage. "I only want to see it underneath, to see it here, and here," and he trailed his fingers again, pushing gently on veins, "where it should stay."

"I..." And Harry's voice fails him. "I-"

But it won't come. He wants to tell Louis, to day the word that describes what he feels, but it won't come.

"I know," Louis says softly. "I love you too."

And then, as if the words drew them together, their lips meet, slotting together and pulling a gasp from Harry.

His veins are glowing lighter, illuminating Louis' face faintly, and he never wants to stop, because now he is feeling the warmth that light should bring. Louis touches him, hands on his face and arms, and he feels safe, happy. 

He shatters once more, feels as if light is exploding from him, and all the bad is expelled, and then the pieces fly back together, stronger than ever before.

Louis seems to feel it too, and he smiles against Harry's lips. 


End file.
